


Buy Me Love

by watchcatewrite



Category: Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Coming Untouched, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchcatewrite/pseuds/watchcatewrite
Summary: Nobody talks about what happens after a superhero saves the world, about how you have to pick up the pieces and just keep going. Despite the fact that your boss was the one who tried to end it.
Relationships: Maxwell Lord/Reader, Maxwell Lord/You
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	Buy Me Love

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sure how spot on my characterization of Max is (considering I haven’t watched the movie in a bit), but since I like to think this is a side of him we haven’t gotten to see much yet maybe that’s appropriate. I hope you’ll forgive me for anything too out of character.

Nobody talks about what happens after a superhero saves the world, about how you have to pick up the pieces and just keep going. Despite the fact that your boss was the one who tried to end it. 

Your first week at Black Gold had been strange, to say the least. You honestly didn’t even remember getting the call from your temp agency, or filling out the endless amount of paperwork that usually came with a new position. It was like one minute you were unemployed, and the next you were answering phones. There was no explanation for it, just an intense desire to do your job and do it well. It was the first time you’d truly felt passionate about a temp job, despite having no idea what the company even did. You couldn’t help the surreal feeling that had followed you around that week, like there was this shimmering veil over everything, a bubble waiting to pop. 

And pop it did. 

Seeing Max on TV had been the cherry on top of your very strange sundae. You still weren’t quite used to him— the figure he cut was impressive, somehow untouchable and larger than life. You had yet to even see him in the office, and you weren’t sure how you’d react when you did. Would you fawn over him like so many others? Would you stumble over your words, a blush high in your cheeks, like you did around most men? Or would you find him as hypnotic in person as you did behind the screen of your TV? You don’t remember wishing for anything, but so much of that day felt hazy, like something you dreamed and couldn’t remember the next morning. Still, the world kept turning. 

Your second week at Black Gold was just as strange, though for entirely different reasons. You’d arrived the following Monday morning to find the offices empty, looking like a hurricane had swept through. Chairs were knocked over, papers scattered around, but it was eerily quiet, not even a phone ringing. Your footsteps seemed to echo in the large room, and it wasn’t until you were halfway to your desk that you realized even the front desk had been unmanned. Had they all just disappeared, like all the other strange things you’d seen the past week? Or had they quit? The second option seemed more likely, but considering recent circumstances you couldn’t rule out the first. 

“Hello?”

Your voice was timid, but it carried in the cavernous office. You whipped around at the sound of rustling, as a head materialized through an open doorway. You sucked in a breath as you realized it wasn’t just any head, it’s blonde hair familiar to you. The smile you’d seen in commercials was gone, replaced with drawn brows and a look of confusion. An impeccable suit slowly followed, and then the man you’d been working for the last week began to draw closer. At an arm's distance away you could smell his cologne, something musky and expensive that made your heartbeat quicken. He looked different in real life, less artificial and more warm. His eyes were kinder than you’d expected. 

“Can I help you, my dear?”

“I um—“ His voice was smooth, like good whiskey, and you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear nervously. “I work here. Where— where is everybody?”

You glanced around the empty office before your eyes found his again. They were hypnotic—a warm, deep brown that seemed almost sad. You had the urge to brush the shock of blonde hair off his brow and ask him what was wrong. You fought it. 

Max Lord straightened, his hands in his pockets as he glanced around the office, letting out a sigh. “I’m not sure actually, I don’t know how these things work, but they’re not here.”

He glanced down at you, peering at you in a way that made you feel like you were under a microscope. “How long have you been working here?”

“Since last week.” 

Max hummed, his head tilting to the side. “And still you came today. Interesting.”

“It’s Monday, should—“ You swallowed, growing panicked you’d miscalculated somehow, that it was really Saturday and you’d shown up in your pajamas. “Should I not have come?”

A grin appeared on Max’s face, as he shook his head gently. “No, no, Mondays are usually working days. I’m just surprised, that’s all. With the stone gone I didn’t think— anyway.”

He was strange, his words were strange, but you didn’t know what to say, and then he was pressing on as if nothing had happened. 

“Well, my dear, I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you these days. I can probably pay you out the rest of the week but Black Gold’s not long for this world. In all honesty I’m only here to collect a few things and plan my next move. Diana was very clear that I should use this time to figure out what is truly important to me.”

“Diana?”

Max waved a hand through the air dismissively. “No matter. Busy yourself however you see fit, use the time to apply for new jobs even, I don’t mind. I’m sorry this will be such a short blip on your resume.”

“That’s alright.” But Max was already moving away from you, headed back into his office, and your words were swallowed up in the empty office. 

It was the first time you’ve been let go without actually hearing the words, and it left you a bit stunned. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that such a bustling, successful company last week, could be shuttered only a week later. Never mind the fact that it would leave you jobless. Again. You quietly walked over to your desk, dropping your purse at your feet and sinking into your chair. You felt adrift, reaching for some kind of anchor, and settled on the first thing you could think of: coffee. 

The coffee maker looked surprisingly no worse for wear, and there was even a bag of coffee grounds still in the drawer. The steps were familiar to you, and it was a welcome lapse in thinking, using solely muscle memory until the smell of fresh brewed coffee started to fill the air. You poured yourself a cup, scrounging up some sugar and creamer until it was the color of melted milk chocolate. You’d never been one for the taste of coffee, though you certainly enjoyed its benefits. You leaned your hip against the counter, holding the mug between your hands as you took measured sips. 

Well, it was certainly the least embarrassing way you’d ever been fired. Max had been nice about it, and even offered to pay you through the week, though it was clear he had no real work for you to do. It was generous of him, considering his company was basically collapsing around him. And you’d find another job. Probably. The temp agency would help you out, you were a good worker, you knew they spoke of you highly. All in all, it wasn’t the worst Monday. Just, a strange one. 

Your coffee half gone, a thought occurred to you, and you quickly poured another cup before you could think better of it. The walk to Max’s office felt comically endless in the large, open space. You wondered if Max had ever even set foot in the little kitchenette, or if someone regularly brewed and delivered his coffee for him. Probably the latter. Your knuckles rapped on the frame of the door gently, and that blonde head of hair rose from where it had been huddled over the desk. 

“Coffee?” A small smile appeared on Max’s face, and you pushed ahead. “I just made it, and you’ll be saving me from drinking the whole pot.”

Max leaned back in his chair, nodding softly. “Please.”

His hand brushed yours as he reached for the cup, his fingers so much larger than your own. When you were closer you could see the soft lines around his eyes. They were endearing in a way you couldn’t describe. 

“I didn’t know if you took cream or sugar—“

But Max had already taken a sip, his eyes closing briefly as he hummed happily, before opening again and meeting yours. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

You smiled, nodding. You hadn’t really thought this far ahead. Did you just leave now? 

“Please, sit.” As if he could read your mind, Max gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and you sunk into one, smiling nervously. “So what brought you to Black Gold?”

Your mug was almost to your lips, and you pulled it away with a jerk. “Temp agency. I mean, not that the work isn’t interesting I—“

Max chuckled, and you smiled again. Were you smiling too much?

“It’s quite alright. I don’t expect you to be devoted to a company that’s not long for this world. I asked the stone for help, not loyalists.”

“The stone?” Your brows crinkled, but Max did that dismissive hand wave again. 

“I just mean, it’s quite alright if this was nothing but a job. I’m sorry it’s come to such an unceremonious end.”

“That’s alright.” You took a sip of your coffee, peering at him over the edge of the mug. “It seemed like a lovely idea: people owning their own means of wealth.”

“Yes well,” Max looked over toward a map on the wall, oil pumps scattered across the surface. “If only it had been as successful as it was novel.”

He turned back to you, a smile on his face, but it was sad. You couldn’t imagine how it felt to build a company up from scratch, only to watch it fall apart beneath you. You’d never been the particularly ambitious type, you liked your small life and it’s simple pleasures. Chasing the unattainable had never much enticed you, but you wondered what it felt like when the unattainable turned out to be a disappointment. Would you feel you’d wasted your life, or that you’d learned something important? You hoped it was the second. 

“So, the agency will help you find another job?”

“I hope so.”

“Good, good. I’d hate for this whole mess to ruin any more lives, particularly in a permanent way.”

It was kind of him, to worry about you. Most of the CEOs at the companies you’d worked for had never even met you, let alone considered your life outside the company. It probably helped that it was only you and Max in this cavernous office together, but you couldn’t help thinking that wasn’t it. Part of you was convinced Max would care about you even if you _were_ one of hundreds, and you weren’t sure if that was your naïveté or Max’s true nature. Regardless, you appreciated the kindness. 

“I’ll be alright.”

Max stared at you from over his coffee cup, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that made your skin feel warm and your stomach jump with nerves. A smile slowly split his lips and Max took another sip of his coffee before answering. 

“I’m sure you will.”

You thought about that smile long after you’d left his office. 

* * *

On Tuesday the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen came into the office. She was more beautiful than the woman who usually manned the front desk, the one who’d trained you when you’d first arrived. Rachel or something. Even Rachel couldn’t hold a candle to this woman. Her hair was long and dark, cascading down her back in perfect waves. She was stylishly dressed, walking in heels like she’d been born with them attached to her feet. She seemed surprised to see you when she arrived in the office but said nothing, besides a polite “hello” as she headed for Max’s office. 

You returned to the pot of coffee you’d been brewing, still unsure what you were supposed to do with your day. Yesterday you’d taken some time to look over the paper, circling any positions that seemed promising. It had taken you a full hour to get one of the computers moved over to your desk and hooked back up, before you’d realized you could have simply sat at another desk. It wasn’t like anyone was going to complain when they found you in their seat. You’d been so embarrassed you’d taken an early lunch, even though Max hadn’t left his office all morning and you were sure he hadn’t seen what you’d been up to. 

As you drew closer to Max’s office, two cups of coffee in hand, you began to hear voices: Max’s smooth timbre, and a melodic, accented lilt that could only belong to your office’s current guest. 

“—I believed you were a good man, Max. I hope you are not proving me wrong.”

“I promise Diana, I’m just settling things and then I’m gone.” Max sounded almost nervous, something that didn’t seem possible of your larger-than-life, TV personality boss. “Alistair and I are going to visit some family down south.”

“Good. That’s good.”

You carefully knocked on the doorframe, no longer comfortable with your own eavesdropping. 

“Come in!”

You stepped through the door, immediately coming upon the two of them standing in front of Max’s desk. The woman, Diana, had a hand on her hip, the other resting against the surface of the desk. Max straightened quickly, running a hand through his hair before flashing you a smile. He _was_ nervous, you were sure of it. You remembered the other time you’d heard the name Diana, and you were suddenly filled with questions. Instead you lifted the two mugs carefully. 

“Coffee?”

“Is that what he has you doing? Is this your secretary, Max?” The woman glanced over at your boss, and Max visibly paled. You had a strange urge to save him, though you weren’t sure from what. 

“No I— I’m just a temp. Mr. Lord has been kind enough to keep me on for the week while I look for another job. I just wanted some coffee, and I certainly don’t need a whole pot.”

Her eyes met yours and you were suddenly glad to have spoken truthfully, you’re not sure you could have lied under such an indomitable gaze. It’s the same line as yesterday, but she seemed satisfied with your answer. 

“Well, that’s very kind of you, but I must be going.” She turned back to Max and you watched him stiffen beneath her gaze. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Max.”

He nodded quickly, the smile on his face wavering. Diana gave you a kind smile as she passed, leaning down to whisper to you. 

“If he gives you any trouble, you let me know.” You nodded, mirroring her smile, and didn’t mention that you knew literally nothing about her other than her first name. 

With Diana gone Max sunk into one of the chairs in front of his desk, his hand coming up to cradle his head. You weren’t sure if you should excuse yourself, or even pretend like this had all never happened, but the warm mug in your hand reminded you of your purpose. You placed it on the desk in front of him carefully, and Max raised his head to look at you. His eyes were fearful, his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but he looked at you with gratitude. 

“ _Gracias_.” 

The word seemed to surprise even him, but rather than comment on it Max took hold of his coffee and took a large sip. You turned to leave but he stopped you again, gesturing to the open chair. 

“Please, sit. Enjoy your coffee.”

You smiled at him kindly, sliding into the offered chair, and ignoring the fact that your coffee was entirely the wrong color. You cradled it between your hands, it’s warmth just on the side of uncomfortable, and it needled you into breaking the silence. 

“Is everything okay, Mr. Lord?”

“ _Max_ , please.” There was another dismissive hand wave and he smiled at you. “Everything’s fine.”

You glanced down at the black coffee for a moment, before meeting his eyes again. “Who was that?”

“Diana Prince.” Max brought his coffee to his lips, taking a long sip before continuing, his eyes unfocused somewhere behind you. “An… acquaintance of mine. Brilliant woman, works at the Smithsonian.”

You waited to hear if there was more. 

“I uh— I got into a bit of trouble last week, and Ms. Prince… saved me. She understood that I’d become a bit lost, and I needed someone to show me the way back to what was important. She’s been very kind. Very understanding.”

Max took another sip of his coffee, and though his words sounded appreciative, his voice was still fearful. 

“Max?”

He finally met your eyes at the use of his name. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

The change was immediate, like a magic trick where someone whipped off a cloak to reveal something beneath. The fearfulness was gone as Max straightened in his seat, that megawatt smile you’d seen in commercials back on his face. He set his coffee back down on the desk and just like that it was if there was a wall between you both, as if you were viewing him through the staticky picture of your TV set at home. It almost gave you whiplash. 

“Of course, my dear. Never better. Thank you for the coffee.”

He ushered you out of the office politely, but quickly, and you returned to the kitchenette. You took entirely too long stirring sugar into the mug of coffee you’d intended for Diana, trying to piece together the man who’d welcomed you into his office twice now, and the one you’d seen on TV. When you arrived back at your desk you found the coffee had cooled, and you slid it to the side. No matter, you had more important things to figure out— like where your next paycheck was coming from. With the computer at your disposal the hours flew by quickly, and before long your stomach was nearly growling for lunch. 

You were slinging your purse over your shoulder as you headed for the elevator, but your feet were suddenly taking you somewhere different. 

“Mr.—Max?” You rapped tentatively at the door frame before extending your head into the office. Max looked up from his desk, eyes meeting yours. “I’m going to get some lunch, would you like to come?”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you my dear, but I—“ That smile was back on his face, and he seemed poised to give you the brush off before stopping suddenly and peering around the office. “You know what? Yes, I would love to.”

You’re not sure what changed his mind, but it surprised you. You straightened with a smile, hand pulling your purse strap up higher on your shoulder as you waited for him to collect his things. As he drew closer he motioned toward the elevator, and you took the lead. The ride down was silent, both of you peering straight ahead into the glinting gold doors. They were shined enough that you could _just_ make out your reflections, though you couldn’t tell the expression on Max’s face. You shuffled your feet uncomfortably, pulling your purse tighter over your shoulder as you tried to think of something to say. With a _ding_ the elevator arrived on the first floor, and you were saved from trying to initiate conversation. 

You were relieved, until you remembered you were headed to an entire lunch with the man beside you. 

“So where—“

“I usually go to—“

You both turned to face each other, speaking at the same time, and your mouth closed with a snap, a blush high on your cheeks. Max laughed kindly, running a hand through his hair again, and you watched a small piece fall back over his forehead. You had that urge to brush it off his brow again, and instead you clutched your purse more tightly against your hip. 

“Apologies, what were you going to say, my dear?”

You shook your head, a smile pushing at your lips. “No, it’s fine. I was just gonna say, I usually go to the cafe down the street.” You suddenly felt nervous, like this was a date or something, and tried to compose yourself. “It’s nothing fancy, but the sandwiches are good.”

Max gestured with an arm down the sidewalk, his other hand coming to rest at the small of your back and urge you forward. “Lead the way.”

His hand disappeared as you began walking, and you found that you were sad at its loss. It was warm and firm at your back, not imposing but reassuring. You both fell into step easily, and you felt strangely comforted with him at your side. There was no one around to bother you, but you felt confident Max wouldn’t allow anyone to even if there was. Like that hand at the small of your back, you felt reassured that Max could take care of you, that no one would dare bother you if you were on his arm. You held your hands in front of your body, rather than giving in to the urge to slip one into his elbow. 

“So,” he broke the silence gently. “Are you from the area or?”

You nodded, a smile breaking out over your face. “Mhmm. I grew up in Arlington, my mom used to bring me into the city on weekends to visit the museums or walk around the mall. I’ve wanted to live here as long as I can remember.”

It was the most personal information you’d given anyone in a long time, and Max’s own lips widened in a smile. “Oh, well then I should see if we can get you a private tour of the Smithsonian. So many incredible things to see.”

“Oh no, please.” Your hand landed on his arm, resting there gently. “That’s very kind of you, but you don’t—“

You bit your lip gently, noticing the way Max was watching you, and your cheeks suddenly felt red hot. You realized your hand had been on his arm entirely too long, but it was a nice arm. Firm. You snatched your hand back, crossing your arms over your stomach. 

“It’s fine, really.”

Max said nothing, his eyes lingering on you for a moment more, before you were both facing forward again. The cafe came into view and you tried not to noticeably quicken your pace. 

“What about you? Are you from DC?” You chanced a glance over at him, just in time to watch Max’s face grow hard. 

“Not originally. My family lives in Texas, but DC has been my home for quite a few years now.”

You noticed the differentiation between his family living in Texas and _being_ from Texas, but said nothing. You could remember what he’d told Diana—“Alistair and I are going to visit some family down south”—and wondered. Was that family in Texas? Or somewhere even further south? His accent seemed slightly more noticeable now, and you couldn’t tell if it was because something had changed, or because you were hearing his voice more than you ever had before. You had seen Alistair only once in the office since you’d started at Black Gold. While some of the similarities between him and his father were obvious, you were clearly not the first person to not realize their relationship. 

All this to say that you truly didn’t know Max Lord, the _real_ Max Lord, and you found that you wanted to. So you simply said, “It’s an amazing city.”

And he smiled down at you kindly as he pulled open the door to the cafe. “Truly.”

With sandwiches in hand you both settled into seats at one of the tables on the patio. It was a beautiful day outside, the sun shining with blue skies as far as the eye could see, and you could feel yourself soaking up the sunshine like a potted plant. The office was nice, certainly beautiful architecturally, but you longed for more natural sunlight. Before you could think better of it you were closing your eyes briefly, tipping your face up toward the sky. You let out a long sigh before bringing your chin back down, opening your eyes to find Max watching you. You blushed, fumbling with the plastic wrap on your sandwich. 

“I met Alistair last week. He seems like a great kid.”

You were unsure if this was an inappropriate topic, but thankfully Max’s face split in a grin. 

“He is. Smart and kind. Hardworking.”

“Like his dad?” You offered. 

“Nothing like his dad.” The self-deprecation was said with a genuine smile, and it surprised you. The man you’d seen on TV would never speak less of himself. “Better than his dad.”

The second part was said quietly, so quietly you almost missed it, and it sounded more like the man who’d offered to pay you through the week, and welcomed you into his office for coffee. The magic trick in his office seemed all the more jarring, now that you’d realized how different the Max Lord of TV and the Max Lord in front of you were. You wondered when the last time Max had truly been himself in front of anyone was, or if he’d grown so accustomed to wearing a mask that he couldn’t differentiate the two anymore. If he’d shoved himself, like an out of season suit, so far into the back of his closet, that he didn’t even realize it was an option anymore. 

“You’ve been very kind to _me_.”

You took a bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly as you gave him the chance to respond. Max looked taken aback for a moment, a slight flush coloring his cheeks, and then he took a similar bite. He didn’t meet your eyes, staring down at his plate as he chewed carefully. You both sat in silence for a few moments, and you weren’t embarrassed to admit that you took the time to truly study him. There were more lines on his face than you’d originally thought, hidden beneath a fake tan that seemed to only hide his naturally warm skin. The lines were most pronounced on his forehead, worry lines, though they rimmed his eyes and mouth as well. Clearly Max spent more time worrying than smiling. 

“What do you want to do next, have you decided yet?”

Max finally met your eyes, before peering up at the sky like he was considering his answer. “I’m not sure yet. I’d like to take some time with Alistair, visit some family I haven’t seen in a very long time.”

He took another bite and you waited for him to continue. You liked listening to him talk. 

“Black Gold has been my life for so long I’m not really sure what it looks like without it. I know Alistair will be there, and I know it means having to live more truthfully, but as far as making money…”

Max trailed off and you took another bite of your sandwich. You were clearly no expert in this field, if your current employment was any indication, but you still wanted to reassure him somehow, that things would be okay. You weren’t sure how yet, so instead you focused on something else. 

“What about Alistair’s mother? Will she…?”

You didn’t realize it sounded like you were asking him if he was single until it was too late. You swallowed dryly, your sandwich like a lump in your throat, and tried not to give the question more weight than you had intended. Max seemed surprised at the question, and there was a small grin on his face as he took another bite of his sandwich. _Shit_. It hadn’t felt like you were showing all your cards when you said it, but you were pretty sure that’s exactly what you’d done. 

“No, I’m afraid that ship has long since sailed. We were never really good for each other anyway. She saw that sooner than I did.”

It was another surprising bit of honesty, and you nodded as you took a sip of your iced tea. You didn’t press, and the admission hung in the air between the two of you. It wasn’t your place to ask, and at this point you were scared of seeming too interested. Max was handsome, yes, and there was a part of you that wanted to shelter him, though you still don’t know from what. Never mind everything that had happened last week, though it still felt dreamlike in your mind. It was all entirely too much, and you decided that developing a crush on your boss, three days before you were effectively let go from his failing company, was spectacularly ill-advised. 

You were both quiet as you continued eating, and you began to worry that neither of you would speak again for the rest of the meal. You considered breaking the silence, but Max beat you to it. 

“So,” You glanced up at him from your sandwich, unsure what could possibly come next. “Did you watch _60 Minutes_ last week?”

By the time you were both walking back to the office, a full forty-five minutes later, things were decidedly easier between the two of you. Max was charming, and he continued to speak to you genuinely, making his TV personality harder and harder to see. He was more approachable than you’d imagined, sharing anecdotes about Alistair and laughing with you over moments from _The Cosby Show_. His gestures and expressions were large, making you laugh in a way that warmed you all the way to your toes. It was all entirely inconvenient really, as it took only one lunch and one ten minute walk for you to realize that as ill-advised as it may be, you definitely had a crush on your boss. 

* * *

On Wednesday you brought the paper into Max’s office along with the cups of coffee. Max opened his arms wide upon your arrival, a large smile on his face, and it was _almost_ TV Max, until you slid into one of the chairs without him offering and you could see a crinkle around his eyes as his smile widened. He sipped his coffee quietly, both hands wrapped around the mug, as you spread out the paper in front of him. He listened intently as you pointed out several circled positions to him, chiming in only when you were done explaining each one. Some had his seal of approval, but others were clearly lacking. 

“No, no, no, you don’t want to be a waitress. Good tips, but everyone will treat you rudely. You’ll take it too personally.”

You would, but you weren’t sure how he knew that already. 

“I can handle it.”

Max tilted his head down, looking at you over the rim of his coffee mug. “My dear, you are far too kind for such a position. It’ll burn you out.”

You considered arguing but you knew he was right. There was a little flutter in your chest that you worked desperately to ignore, taking another sip of your coffee. You glanced back down at the paper, shifting it slightly so you could read the next position circled in red. Max shook his head again, vetoing it like the last, and waved his hand at you to continue on to the next. By the end of the help wanted section you had five potentials, certainly enough calls to fill your morning. Max settled back in his chair, bringing his coffee to his lips, and you mirrored him. 

“Do you have any friends in the city?”

You nodded. “A few. They wanna take me dancing on Saturday.”

“You should go!” Max’s enthusiasm was almost comical, but it felt genuine. 

“I don’t know. The whole thing makes me uncomfortable. Men buying me drinks, getting pushy when I politely decline their offers to dance… It always feels like they’re waiting for me to do good on a promise I don’t remember making.”

It was probably too much to say to your boss, and you regretted it instantly. You were becoming too comfortable with him, just the two of you alone in the office. He was always kind, gentlemanly, and you’d never once felt like he considered you below him. It did things to your head, made you feel like there were connections where there probably were none. You took another sip of your coffee, trying to avoid Max’s eyes. When you finally looked up, after a few moments of silence, he was watching you sadly. 

“I’m sorry _cariño_ , that’s unkind of them.” 

This time the Spanish felt more natural, like he’d always spoken to you this way, words peppered in amongst his English. It sounded lovely coming from his mouth, even though you had no idea what it meant, two years of high school Spanish be damned. You felt your cheeks warm, and you glanced down at your coffee again. You’d spent the entirety of the previous night convincing yourself that you and Max would be friends, nothing more. But as you glanced back up at him to see him smiling at you gently, you were finding it hard to remember why you’d been so sure that was the best course of action. 

“Still, you’re a lovely woman, you deserve someone who loves and appreciates you.”

Your blush deepened and you took another sip of your coffee. “Well, if you know anyone let me know.”

Max suddenly cleared his throat harshly, and when you looked back up his cheeks were slightly red, his own mug pressed to his lips. You both lapsed into silence, sipping your coffee quietly. When you were done you folded up the paper, slipping it under your arm as you thanked Max for his advice. He nodded wordlessly, giving you a tight smile as you left the office, and you wondered if you’d said something wrong. Just when you thought you were starting to get to know the real Max, you felt yourself tipped off balance again. You were missing something, you just didn’t know what. 

This time when lunch came around Max excused himself quietly, heading down in the elevator alone. By the time you’d collected your things and made it down to the first floor there was no sign of him, the lobby and the street in front of the building empty. You walked to the cafe, bag clutched tightly against your chest, now more convinced than before that you’d done something wrong. You shouldn’t have been so familiar with him this morning. He’d opened the door to asking you polite, noninvasive questions about your life, and you’d given him entirely too much information. You were sure of it. When you got back to the office Max was already there, his office door closed. 

It was the first time all week it hadn’t been open, and it remained closed even as you slipped out at the end of the day. 

* * *

Thursday morning Max’s office door was still closed. You’d knocked on it gently, as gently as you could with two mugs of coffee in your hands, but there was no answer. You sipped your own coffee at your desk, your eyes trained on the other mug just off to the side. It had only been a few days but already you’d come to enjoy your little routine, seeing Max’s smile in the morning as you both looked out at each other over your mugs. You knew it (and your time at this company) were short lived, but it had been comforting. A bit of normalcy before you were thrown back into the fray. 

It was hard to believe all that strangeness had happened less than a week ago, already it felt so far away. Max seemed less the towering figure of your television now, and more like the quiet businessman who loved his son. You weren’t quite sure when the switch had flipped in your mind, but you’d enjoyed getting to know the real Max. He was ambitious, and hardworking, but he made you feel comfortable, at ease. You had a feeling that was all he really wanted as well, to feel like he finally had a place for himself. He seemed more lost than the confidant playboy he played on TV. 

He hadn’t even hit on you _once_ , despite three days spent alone with each other. 

At lunch you approached the office again, bag already slung over your shoulder. There was no answer at your knock, so you knocked again, louder this time. Nothing. Your face pinched in a frown, that fluttery feeling back in your chest but for all the wrong reasons this time. What had you done to warrant banishment like this? It was only the two of you here, could he really not stand to be around you for two more days? Before you could think better of it you tried the handle, finding the door unlocked. You leaned against it gently, cracking the door just wide enough so that you could see Max hunched over his desk, his head in his hands. 

“Max? I’m going for lunch would you, would you like to come?”

“No, thank you.” His words were low, directed at the top of the desk. 

“Are you sure? I can bring you something if you—“

“No. Thank you.” His voice was louder this time, and your mouth snapped shut. He still hadn’t even lifted his head to look at you. 

“Okay, I— Sorry.” You went to close the door, leaning back as you fought the lump growing in your throat. You wouldn’t cry, it was undignified and silly. You’d known the man four days, it was nothing to cry over. 

You leaned against the door, opening it further until you could see him again, the words jumping from your mouth unbidden. “Did I— did I do something wrong? I thought we— I thought we were fr—“

But you couldn’t bring yourself to say the word. It was too humiliating, and Max’s opinion of you was clear. You let the door slam shut, just missing as Max’s head lifted from his hands, his face the picture of anguish. You tried to keep yourself from running to the elevator, your finger jabbing at the call button far more times than necessary. As the doors slid open you could hear his voice from across the office, calling out to you. You rushed in as soon as you were able, letting the doors close with a _thud_ , and waiting until you were two floors down before you let the tears in your eyes fall. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to eat, sipping slowly at an iced tea while you wallowed in your misery. It was ridiculous, you knew that. You hardly even knew the man, but still. It had felt like it was going somewhere, like Max was letting you in, showing you something not many had seen, and you’d felt special. For one of the few times in your life you’d felt special, not because of some strange, inexplicable magnetism, but because Max saw you. And you saw him. Wasn’t that what people were always telling you to wait for? 

When you got back to the office Max’s door was open. You took your seat at your desk, sliding your purse into its spot beside your feet, and tried not to let your eyes wander. You spent the afternoon cleaning up your resume and calling the jobs you’d circled in that morning’s paper, without Max’s input. If you spoke a little bit more loudly than necessary it certainly wasn’t intentional, though you wondered if Max could hear you from his office, and if he was reminded that your time together was drawing to a close. Tomorrow was your last day at Black Gold, by far your shortest time spent at any position, though you knew it would have a lasting effect on you. At the end of your day you rose from your desk and slung your bag over your shoulder as you headed for the elevator. 

“Wait, please.”

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his voice, though you refused to turn around. He sounded sad, and it felt as though someone had reached into your chest and begun rooting around. There were tears hot at the corner of your eyes again, but you stayed determined. You refused to cry in front of that man. Just twenty four more hours and then you were gone. You refused to let someone so inconsequential to your life hurt you, no matter what he said. 

“I’m sorry.”

_Fuck._

“You’re right, I thought we had become friends too and I shouldn’t have—“ You could hear him swallow loudly, before he continued. “I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I’m sorry, _cariño_.”

There was silence, and then your voice, wavering, “what does that mean?”

“It means I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, it was—“

“No.” Your voice was louder this time. “ _Cariño_. What does it mean?”

It sounded less elegant in your mouth, not as beautiful and smooth as it had coming from his lips. There was silence again, and after a few moments you considered continuing your march to the elevator. When his voice finally came it was from just behind you, like a breath against your neck. 

“Darling. Sweetheart. It can mean many things.”

You turned slowly, hands tight on the strap of your purse. Max’s eyes were on you, dark and intense, and you drew in a breath. His hand rose to cup your face, and his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, almost hypnotically. His cologne was even more intoxicating up close, even though you’d spent the week growing accustomed to it. He was so much taller than you, but like the hand on your back earlier in the week it wasn’t imposing, just strangely comforting. You wanted to sink into his arms, to bury your face in his chest and wrap him around you. 

“I’ve done too many bad things, _cariño_. I don’t deserve you or your kindness. I thought— I thought if I pulled away I could save you hurting, but I see I’ve only hurt you more. I’m sorry.”

The pad of his thumb moved over your cheekbone gently, and your eyes fluttered closed. 

“I have to be the good man I know I can be. For Diana, for Alistair. For you. Maybe one day I’ll be good enough to deserve you.”

Your face crumpled, and you could feel tears burning at the corners of your eyes again. You allowed yourself one shuddering breath, as you tried to memorize the feeling of his hand on your face, before you turned without a word. You didn’t bother with the elevator, your hands heavy against the stair door. You couldn’t even feel your feet below you as you raced down the hard, concrete stairs, faster and faster until you reached the lobby, running for the door. It was only when you were outside, and you had sucked in a large breath of air, that you finally let the sobs you’d been holding back wrack through you. 

* * *

When Friday morning dawned you lay in bed for a good fifteen minutes, considering. Max had offered to pay you through the week, even though he’d had no work for you to do. Would he truly care if you didn’t show up today? Would he notice your absence? Or had he already filed you away, a face he would forget as soon as it was gone? You didn’t know what answer hurt you less, and you curled around yourself in bed, fighting the ache in your chest. You’d never been a particularly brave person, but you found you couldn’t bring yourself to run from this. It was one more day, you could stay for _one more day_. 

The office was just as silent as ever when you arrived. Everything was still a mess and you decided that was what you’d spend your last day doing: you’d tidy up. It would keep your hands busy, your mind occupied, and maybe you wouldn’t think about the man sitting quietly in his office. You were already walking toward the kitchenette, as if on autopilot, before you remembered and paused. Your line from that first day returned to you—“you’ll be saving me from drinking the whole pot”—and you realized it was partly true, you really did want the coffee. Fuck it. 

As the smell of coffee began to fill the air you could hear movement coming from Max’s office. You waited to see if he would emerge, but no such luck. You briefly considered pouring only your own coffee, leaving the pot out for him to smell and covet, drawing him from his office like a lure, but you decided it was cruel. He had been kind to you, even when he’d made you cry he’d been kind to you. The least you could do was bring him coffee. You took a few minutes longer to prepare your own cup, trying to settle your breathing. 

You barely had to knock on the doorframe before Max was welcoming you in, sitting behind his desk as usual. Instead of one of his carefully pressed suits you found him dressed in a pair of slacks, with a white, linen shirt tucked into his waistband. It was surprising, seeing him dressed so casually, and you almost took a step back. He rose from his chair quickly, like he thought you might run away, a nervous smile on his face. You tried to return the smile, placing his coffee on his desk before taking a step back. 

“Casual Friday?”

Max glanced down at his clothes, before meeting your eyes again. “I figured I might as well, since it’s—“

He didn’t say it, but the words floated in the air between you: “the last day.”

You nodded and turned to leave, but Max’s arm reached out toward you. “Please, stay. Enjoy your coffee.”

It was the same thing he’d said to you almost every morning this week, the thing you realized you looked forward to the most each morning. You bit your lip. You wanted to, god did you want to, but a part of you felt too tender, like you were opening yourself up to be wounded. You shook your head gently, your brows knitted together, and headed for the door. 

“I shouldn’t, I’m sorry. I have things to do.”

It was a lie. He knew it as well as you did. There was nothing truly to do, no work to be done, just a day of waiting for this to be over—Black Gold, your employment, whatever tentative bond you two had forged. Max said nothing, only nodded as he sunk back into his chair. You didn’t look back as you left the office, willing yourself to keep your eyes ahead. You dropped into your own chair, as you brought your mug to your lips and took a long drink. You’d skimped on the sugar and the coffee was too bitter. It was a fitting end to the week. 

By lunch time you’d cleared the desks surrounding yours. Papers had gone into piles of keep, shred, and ?, a pile Max would have to go through himself. Reading over the papers as you sorted them had given you a better idea of what Black Gold really did, and you found you didn’t understand a word of it. Why had you been so passionate about it that first week? It had been all consuming: the need to work hard for this company you felt was exactly what you’d been waiting for. But now, as you looked out over the remains of what Max had built, you couldn’t understand what had driven you so. 

Like so much of that week it felt hazy and surreal. Would you ever truly understand what had happened? You could remember bits and pieces: arriving at Black Gold, watching Alistair’s legs kick back and forth quietly as he waited outside his father’s office, your first sandwich from the cafe, Max’s face on your television saying you had only to wish and it would come true. Sometimes you could still hear his voice, urging you to wish, and you wondered what you would wish for. At the time simple things had jumped to mind, like enough money to never work again, but now you weren’t so sure. Maybe you knew that nothing could be wished for, that everything had to be worked for. 

You didn’t ask Max to lunch. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to give you the no you expected, or to agree to come along, and so you decided not to give him the choice. The ride down in the elevator was silent, even the music long since turned off, and you thought about how it was the second to last time you’d take that ride. Were you sad about it? Were you sad to be leaving Black Gold? Or just sad to be leaving Max? When you rode back up forty-five minutes later you still didn’t have an answer, and when you settled down at your desk you realized it was the last time you would walk into this office. Waiting for you on your desk was a plain white envelope, your last paycheck from Black Gold. 

At the end of the day you hadn’t quite cleaned it all. Things were better, markedly better, but it was clear it would never be the office Max had likely envisioned. As you slung your purse over your shoulder you thought about just slipping out without a word, about never seeing Max Lord again, but you couldn’t. You walked to his office slowly, trying to compose yourself, before knocking on the door gently. Max’s voice welcomed you in, and when you entered you found him sitting at one of the chairs in front of his desk, fingers steepled over his knees. He glanced up at you as you walked in. 

“Did you find your paycheck?”

“Yes, thank you.”

There was silence, and you tried to read his face for some hint at what he was thinking. 

“Well then, I guess this is goodbye.” He rose from his chair and extended you his hand. You shook it firmly. “Thank you for your time at Black Gold I— I appreciate your hard work.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile in what you hoped was a generous gesture. You turned and took a few steps toward the door, stopping suddenly. If that was the end, you might as well speak right? 

“You know Max I—“ You turned, your eyes meeting his, and the hope there almost stole the words from your throat. “I don’t know what you did, so much of last week is a blur and I can’t—“

You cleared your throat, trying to find the words. 

“I think Diana’s right. I think you are a good man. You made mistakes, and you lost your way, but you’ve been kind and— and _good_ , to me.”

He was silent, his eyes fixated on yours. 

“A week ago I saw you on TV and you told me I could have it all, that I just had to want it.” You were furious at the tears you could feel pooling, but you shouldered through. “I don’t— I don’t want it all, Max, I just want you.”

It felt like you blinked and Max was suddenly beside you, his hands on your face. His thumbs brushed the tears from your eyes as he shushed you gently, leaning down until he could press his lips to yours. There was no hesitancy behind them, no second guessing, and you let yourself sink into him like you had wanted to so desperately the day before. Max pulled you tighter against him with an arm at your waist, his tongue moving softly over your bottom lip. It felt like your whole body was buzzing, like you could collapse if he wasn’t holding you up. He was strong and comforting, just like you’d imagined. 

You slid your arms around his neck as he leaned back to whisper against your lips, “ _cariño_.” That beautiful word, this beautiful man, his beautiful lips pressed to yours. You wanted him, every piece of him, the things he showed everyone else, and all the hidden parts he kept for himself. You wanted to know every inch of Max Lord, in a way that no one else ever had. You moaned into his mouth, and pressed yourself against him, trying to get closer, _closer_. His arms slid around your back and he lifted you easily, placing you on the edge of his desk. Your skirt hiked up around your knees. 

“So beautiful.” He whispered, your face cradled between his hands as he kissed your cheekbones, your temples, the corners of your eyes. “So kind and patient.”

“Max.” You whispered it against his skin as he kissed down your neck. 

“I’ve wanted you since the first morning you shared your coffee with me.”

You shivered as he sucked gently at the soft skin below your ear. His right hand left your face to rest on your knee. It stayed there, warm and heavy, but waiting patiently. 

“Max.” It was a gasp, as your arms tightened across his back, drawing him closer to you. 

“I’ve been dreaming of kissing you, _touching_ you, knowing it was more than I deserved.” His voice was husky, but his hand still didn’t move. You wanted it to move. 

“Please. Please touch me.”

Finally Max’s hand moved, sliding up your thigh as he brought his lips to yours again. He nipped at your bottom lip gently as his hand slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, brushing over your thigh as his fingertips _just_ reached the fabric of your underwear. You moaned against his lips, shifting your hips and trying to get them closer to the hand that was still too far away. Max smiled as he reached out, his hand cupping you against your underwear. You let out a gasp and he hummed appreciatively. 

“So wet, _cariño_.”

You groaned, grinding yourself against his palm, the wet fabric giving you only the tiniest amount of friction. Max’s lips brushed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

“I want to taste you. May I taste you, my dear?”

You nodded breathlessly. “Please.”

Max leaned back to trail kisses down your neck, and you watched as he slowly lowered to his knees in front of you. You gently brushed the hair from his brow, like you’d imagined so many times before, and Max smiled up at you affectionately. When he was on the ground his gaze dropped, looking up your skirt at what he’d asked so nicely for. You shivered as he looked you over, before taking each side of your skirt in both hands and beginning to shift it up your legs. You rocked your hips side to side, helping him, and Max leaned down to kiss and bite at the soft skin of your thighs gently. 

You hissed when he bit softly at the skin just inside your groin, as his nose and chin brushed against your soaking center. He grinned up at you and you tightened your hand in his hair, already anticipating his mouth on you. “Lift your hips for me.”

You followed his instructions and then the last layer between the two of you was gone. You startled at the feeling of cool air against your warm skin, and Max quieted you gently, placing another soft kiss on your thigh. His hands moved to your hips, as he gripped onto the bunched fabric there and pulled you closer. You let a little gasp as his lips sealed around you clit, giving it a gentle suck. Your hand tightened in his hair as you tried to draw him closer against you. But Max’s hands were strong at your hips, holding you back and setting his own pace. 

You moaned as he licked up your folds, mouthing at each of your labia gently before returning to your clit. You gasped each time his tongue moved over it, bucking your hips up into his mouth each time. Max moaned against you as your hips collided with his face, and the vibration sent a shiver up your spine. His tongue moved against your folds again, sliding between them until you felt it push inside of you, warm and wet. Max groaned as you clenched around him, trying again, fruitlessly, to draw him closer against you. All of a sudden his mouth was gone, now pressing wet, sloppy kisses into your thighs between words. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.”

You groaned, your head falling back as his tongue moved over you again. “Fuck Max, that feels so good.”

He hummed and you clenched his hair more tightly again. “That feels so good, please don’t stop.”

His tongue dipped inside of you, and Max slid a hand down from your hip to brush his thumb against your clit. You cried out, bucking up into him again, and with only one hand now on your hips you finally succeeded in pulling his face closer against you. Max groaned, his breaths coming louder and heavier now. He brushed his thumb over your clit again, and his tongue moved inside of you. 

“Please Max, more.”

Max withdrew his head but kept his thumb brushing over you gently. “Such a beautiful girl, letting me touch her like this, asking me for more.”

“Yes, Max. More, please. You’re doing so good, baby. Please.”

Max removed his hand from your clit, bringing two fingers to his mouth. You watched as he sucked them, sliding them down his tongue and out of his mouth, before circling them around your clit slowly. 

“Tell me _cariño_ , does anyone else make you feel this way?”

“No.” It was breathless but it was the truth. “No Max, no one else makes me feel like this. You— you make me feel so good.”

Max mouthed at the soft skin of your thigh, as he slowly slid his fingers inside of you. You gasped, bucking up on to his hand when it curled inside of you, just grazing that perfect spot. Max chuckled against you and your hand tightened in his hair again. 

“So good. Such— such a good boy.”

Max’s fingers stilled inside of you, and you could hear him suck in a breath. _Oh._

“Such a good boy, Max.”

His fingers jerked inside of you and then began moving again, pressing into the spot at the top of your walls. You groaned, loud and long as his mouth sealed over your clit again, sucking harshly. His tongue moved against you as his fingers moved inside of you, pumping in and out and hitting that spot every time. You pulled at his hair, pushing his face against you until his nose bumped up against your mound. 

“Fuck that feels so good.”

Max’s fingers increased their pace, as he alternated sucking and licking at your clit. It was perfect, _so perfect_ , and you could feel your hips rising off the desk as you arched your back into it. You were close, so very close, and Max seemed to sense it, brushing your g-spot with every thrust of his fingers. You gasped, drawing him closer again and grinding yourself against his mouth, chasing your orgasm. Max groaned against you, giving your clit one more hard suck, and you felt yourself fall apart beneath him. 

Max’s fingers stuttered, letting out a gasp of his own as you clenched around him. You glanced down to find his eyes squeezed shut, his hand tight on your hip as he held you close. He shifted on the carpet and you finally realized what had happened. You both moaned, writhing against each other as you came, and you felt dizzy with it. Maxwell Lord, cumming untouched as you came on his fingers. Your vision whited at the edges and you were sure your hips were fully off the desk by now, but you couldn’t stop. It was intoxicating, knowing him making you come had pushed him over the edge as well. 

Max finally stilled with a groan, his mouth leaving your oversensitive cunt, as he lay his head against your thigh. You both were breathing hard, and your cheeks felt hot. You finally removed your hand from Max’s hair, brushing it back from his brow gently. Max hummed beneath you, as he stroked his thumb over your thigh. You kept your hand in his hair, petting him softly as you watched his eyelids flutter closed. 

“That was _wonderful_ , Max.” He smiled at your breathless praise, settling on the floor with his head against your leg, and finally, _finally_ , you saw the real Max. 


End file.
